The Second Chance
by Sapphire7777
Summary: Not in any known history had a personification been killed before their nation, state, or city fell apart. That is, not until Texas was shot at the exact time of the West Texas Explosion on the eve of her wedding with Russia. No one knows how something previously deemed impossible is supposed to work, until the personifications meet a decidedly human lookalike of Texas. RusTex
1. Isabella Carriedo

**Author's Note: **Heheh... Long time no see? ^^' I'd like to apologize for the extremely long period of me being away. A lot of life stuff has been going on... buuuut I'm here for this new story! Hopefully people aren't too mad at me! I have a feeling my HetaPotter: Chamber of Secrets followers want to claw my eyes out... O.o This is a story I was recently inspired to do, because I'll admit to being a RusTex fan. XD As of right now, I don't plan on writing the whole backstory of how Ivan and Isabella got together, but if enough people request it, I'll do it. Anyway, as always, if you catch a spelling/grammar mistake, let me know so I can correct it! SAPPHIRE OUT!

**Warning: **Mild language, OCs, or genderbends will be used! Don't like, please move along and don't read~

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia (though I wish I did xD). It's just fan stuff! :D

_Translations:_

_Брат (or брат): Brother_

_сестра: Sister_

__снегурочка: Snowflake__

_да: Yes_

_До свидания: Goodbye_

**Prologue: Isabella Carriedo**

_January 15, 2031_

"Брат, are you listening?"

Ivan's head snapped up, the sound of his sister's voice pulling himself out of the complex rivers of his mind to keep himself from drowning in his own thoughts. His violet eyes frantically scanned the form of his sister sitting in the other side of one of the many booths in the small restaurant where they were currently eating. Her short blond hair gently framed her worried face, her slender eyebrows knitting together. Ivan immediately felt guilty at such a sight from his sister. He really did not like seeing her worried, especially if it was because of himself.

"I am sorry, сестра," he apologized in his heavily accented voice, "What were you saying?"

Katyusha sighed in despair. "It doesn't matter much anymore, брат. I was just talking about how interesting these meetings at America's place can be." She took her brother's hands after she had finished explaining, her thumbs tenderly rubbing the back of his palms at an attempt to comfort him. "What really matters now is you. You can't go your entire life being depressed. She wouldn't want that for you."

Ivan's eyes went dark at the mention of _her_, of Isabella. It had been seventeen years since that horrible day, had it not? The day that his beloved снегурочка had been murdered by a thug on the streets of Dallas. Normally a personification's regenerative abilities would have taken care of this, but somehow with the West Texas explosion falling on the exact moment the bullet had entered her heart, this ability was rendered inert. Isabella, the personification of Texas, his fiancé, had died instantly.

"I know that, сестра . . . but every time I think I've finally moved on, I see or hear something that reminds me of her and I find that I haven't really moved on at all. I miss her so much," he explained in a low voice, chuckling sadly, "But the kids don't even remember her. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

Katyusha looked at her brother with large sad eyes. "You know as well as I do is that life is never what we planned it to be," she said with a sigh, her expression changing to one of curiosity as she changed the subject, "Speaking of the kids, how are they?"

"They're good. They're both doing well in school, especially Aiden," he explained with a soft smile, "I see his mother in him every day. He has her quick wit, not to mention the same eyes."

"Have you told them about us, the personifications, yet?"

"No," said the Russian with a shake of his head, "but I plan on telling them on their eighteenth birthday. I want to tell them at the right time."

"Makes sense." She suddenly looked down at her phone on the table, picking it up to look at the screen after it had buzzed to notify its owner of a text. The Ukrainian sighed and started to get up. "Sorry, I have to leave, брат. My boss wants me."

Ivan looked at his sister sadly, but knew he could not keep her with him. "I will see you at the meeting, да?"

"Of course! До свидания!"

"До свидания . . . "

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you; I can't just let you in! You have no appointment!" a rather irritated secretary clarified for about the hundredth time through gritted teeth. The male glared at the ignorant female in front of his desk, her tanned hands placed on her hips and her nose raised in disbelief.<p>

"And I'm tellin' you, ya thickheaded deskie with a stick up your butt, I'm not leavin' 'til I can have a talk with Mr. Jones! He's expectin' me, so I assumed I didn't need an appointment! I'm supposed to be an intern for him! It's extra credit for my government class!" the female shot back stubbornly.

"How many times do I have to tell you—"

"It's okay, Sam," a voice suddenly interrupted, "I was expecting her." Two pairs of eyes turned onto the new voice, which belonged to none other than Alfred F. Jones. Mr. Jones was clearly quite young, appearing to be merely nineteen-years-old, though his ID would label him in his late twenties. He had choppy wheat blond hair with an odd cowlick sticking out from the front of his bangs. His clothing was a mix of casual and business attire, consisting of a brown bomber jacket over a comfortable-looking suit.

When Mr. Jones had first entered the room, his blue eyes were lit up and a grin pulled at his features, but at the sight of the woman in front of him, his face seemed to pale as his heart stopped in his chest. He looked the female up and down, looking at her as if she was a ghost that could not possibly be in front of him.

"Um, could you please stop checkin' me out, Mr. Jones? I'm way too young for you anyway."

Alfred found himself blushing at that comment, his mind immediately snapping out of the trance it had been in. "O-Oh, I'm sorry! You just . . . remind me a lot of a person I once knew, and now that I think about it, you two both have the same name."

"Really?" asked the girl with curiosity in her voice, "Isabella Carriedo isn't really that common of a name. Though, I suppose it's possible for someone to have it, but the fact that we look alike makes it weirder!"

"Yeah . . . I have a picture of her on my phone." Alfred quickly dug his iPhone out of one of the pockets of his bomber jacket, tapping multiple icons on its screen until he finally found the desired picture. He turned the phone so Isabella could see the picture, which showed a female that looked very much like Isabella, if only a bit older. The woman glared at the person taking the picture, presumably Alfred, with farmland stretching behind her.

There was something that Isabella noticed about the picture that made something inside her stir, which was a man who was a little farther in the distance. His hair was a blond so light that it might as well be considered white, being cut just below his chin. He looked back at the two figures, his violet eyes gazing at the scene with curiosity and the long scarf around his neck blowing in the wind.

"Who's that man? The one in the background?" Isabella asked after a period of staring.

Alfred's blue eyes darkened, the hand that was not holding his phone balling into a fist. Isabella immediately felt as if she had just unearthed an horrible topic full of pain that was never meant to be brought up from the shadows. But she had brought it up nonetheless.

"Ivan," he spat out the name like it was a deadly poison, putting the phone back in his pocket, "Ivan Braginski."

"I really shouldn't be askin' you this, but . . . why do you say his name like that?"

"He's the reason she's dead. I attempted trusting him, but in the end, he couldn't protect her," he explained with a growl. Isabella simply let her eyes widen, dumbly saying 'Oh,' due to the lack of having anything better to say. She had not expected that. She now regretted bringing the subject up in the first place, especially since this other Isabella seemed to be hugely important to Alfred.

The dark emotions on Alfred's face was gone in a moment, being quickly replaced by an enormous grin. The sudden emotion flip obviously surprised the female, but she had little time to question it. He took her hand, beginning to practically drag her down one of the building's hallways.

"Enough of sad stuff! It's not heroic to make a lady upset!" The male let out a loud obnoxious laugh, instantly making Isabella regret going on this extra credit assignment. "I'll show you everything I do and what I want you to do! It'll be fun!"

_"Oh jeeze! What have I gotten myself into?"_ Isabella thought as the older male dragged her.


	2. Will not be continuing

Hello, this is Sapphire here. I know someone of you were expecting some new chapter, but I'm afraid this isn't that. Due to lack of interest in the pairings and overall ideas, I will be cancelling this fanfic. I'm really, really sorry. However, if some of you would want to continue this story on your own, shoot me a message, and I'll give you the details. You'll even be able to change scenes and characters, if you really want to. Again, I'm really sorry.


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